


One Gentle Thing, Undone

by saemay



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saemay/pseuds/saemay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the fury, forgiveness is slow to come.<br/>Originally written scene for Walking with a Ghost, Chapter 39 from Hal's POV, and then later cut. Coming to the end of the story, I realized not only was the extra scene relevant character development, but this chapter would make for a nice one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Gentle Thing, Undone

**Author's Note:**

> One Gentle Thing, Undone  
> (Extended Chapter 39 from Walking with a Ghost)  
> Spoilers: Season 4 (and Walking with a Ghost, if you have not yet read - not quite necessary for enjoyment of this chapter though!)  
> Rating: M for violence to and from books... and Heavy Adult Themes
> 
>  
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> _I don't own these characters, they own me. Toby Whitehouse and the BBC own the playground._  
>  Reviews are love  
> 
> 
> * * *

Just like they had a month ago, Hal and Alex sat side by side on the stairs, facing the cellar door. Only this time, their shoulders touched. So much had changed.

At the start of Allison's screams, Alex tensed and Hal reached for her hand. She clasped tightly, but it didn't help her bear the awful sounds of Allison in pain. Once the girl's voice transformed into pacing snarls, Hal stood.

"The door should hold. We can go." She nodded in response and he lifted her up. They headed all the way up to the attic – putting as much distance between themselves and the werewolf in the cellar as possible.

Earlier, Alex had folded down the futon in an urge to sprawl while reading. She had borrowed several of Allison's books and they lay scattered in an arc across the surface. Immediately aware of her 'mess', she went to collect them, clearing space. But as she straightened, books in arm, she felt Hal standing behind her. As he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her in close, she gave a surprised inhale and pressed against him in response. His frame was solid, supportive, and closer than he had ever consciously brought them.

His hands traveled forward from her shoulders to slide into her jacket, seeking the warmth of their contact. She was immediately hyper-aware of his every breath, the coolness of his touch and whisper of air against her ear. Had he been waiting for this? Holding himself in reserve until they were truly alone before attempting anything again? Alex felt her pulse start to hammer. He kissed the back of her neck, just below her ear, instantly firing on that aching need to touch him. She would have turned, except for the books in her arms and the fact that his hands started to move down further, past her collar. He held her with fingers spread across her chest, barely gracing the edge of her dress.

The tension of his control, balanced against his desire, was palpable. Reluctantly, she pulled away to set the books down and he let her go, abruptly turning to the stereo. Hal started scanning through the stack of music for something that could distract him.

Alex watched him rummage with far too much focus and felt such a wash of frustration come over her that she didn't think she could contain it all. Her heart ached for Allison downstairs, Tom alone in the woods, her own gruesome death, her family, and even the incredibly complex creature in front of her - who, by all rights she should hate. But it was so much worse than that. In one quick moment, after two months, she finally felt the impossibility of her situation. It hit her like a punch in the gut.

The lamp next to Hal shattered.

The stereo turned to static of its own accord and the remaining lights started to flicker. Hal froze and turned to face her slowly, like _she_ was the dangerous one.

"Alex…" Hal spoke very softly. A pristine, hard-bound edition of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" from the looks of it, flew forth and hit Hal square in the chest with a loud _thump!_ before clattering to the floor. Alex, appearing just as surprised as he was, quickly shut her eyes, trying to hold back whatever was happening. He hazarded a step towards her, scrutinizing and cautious, "Alex, just breathe. It will pass."

The first book was followed by a hailstorm of the rest.

Hal quickly ducked, blocking the onslaught of flying books with his forearms while attempting to cross the floor. By the time he reached her, she had started to cry. _Bollocks._ Poltergeisting was one thing. He could deal with that. He would calm her and they would clean up the mess. But he couldn't deal with a woman in tears.

Cassettes, CDs, and bits of broken glass from the lamp joined the swarm. Hal, his instincts overcoming his discomfort, tackled her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pull them down with his back to the hurricane. Alex pressed her face into the crook of his neck and he felt the wetness. _Ghosts shouldn't have real tears..._ he thought absently while he tried to shield them both. As quickly as the attack began, it was over with a pounding crash as everything dropped to the floor at once.

Alex was shaking and Hal was at a loss, not knowing what to say, so he just held her. Her hands had been limp in her lap but she brought them up, pushing into his chest. Every fiber of her being was taut and Hal wondered if she was going to shock him. When he didn't let her go, she sighed and sagged against him like a cut kite string. He held her until his knees started to ache.

Eventually, Alex opened her eyes to take in the disaster over Hal's shoulder. He loosened his grip and she freed an arm to rub her eyes. "Now there be a right mess," and she gave a shaky laugh. "Tis a good thing I didnae start in on that earlier..." But remembering Hal's own rages, she sighed and straightened.

Hal was looking at her with concern. He had glass in his hair and without thinking, she reached forward to brush it clear. She was stopped short when he caught her hand. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, but then bit her lip and softly admitted to whatever had just happened. "No. No, I'm not."

He looked down, but released her hand. She proceeded to finish brushing the bits from his hair. Then, eyeing the catastrophic aftermath of her whirlwind, she reached for the nearest book. In a strange moment of clarity, she could understand how cleaning helped. Focusing on the small things was a welcome distraction.

"Do you want to talk it about it?" He asked, staying perfectly still as if he didn't want to startle her. She straightened and stood, aiming for the rest of the wreckage. The anger in her was still simmering.

"There's nothing to talk about." She started gathering books and bits and he stood as well, brushing himself off.

"Alex... I'm..." he started, but sighed.

Her anger re-flared and she whirled on him. "What? Are you sorry? Sorry I died? Sorry I'm a fecking ghost? Sorry you drank my blood and damned me to be addicted to you? Or - are you sorry you can't seem to just _**fuck**_ me and get it over with?"

The muscles of his jaw clenched, her warning that his grasp on himself was slipping, but she didn't care. She turned back to the mess of flopped open books, broken cases, glass and paper and _shoved_. Every last bit slammed into the wall underneath the stereo with a tumbling _woomph_. Something somewhere inside of her let go and all her anger and frustration bled into sadness.

"I just wanted... one gentle thing," she said, staring at the wreckage. "I've never been so wrong in all my life."

But then he was there. He didn't say anything, nor did he touch her. But she knew without looking – she could feel just how close he was. She closed her eyes and inwardly wondered. _Of course_. Maybe it could be that simple - she had _challenged_ him. He _needed_ to be pushed.

With her back still to him, she slowly pulled down the zip of her jacket, the metal teeth the only sound other than their breath. From behind, he reached for the collar and slid the sleeves from her arms, trailing his fingers across her skin as he went. He took the jacket from her and set it down carefully, even though it was already fading.

Turning around, she brought her hands to his face. His gaze was soft and she was close enough that she could see the little flecks of amber in the green of his eyes. Hesitant and testing, she slowly kissed him and wasn't surprised when he returned it and brought his hands to her waist.

She suddenly remembered their first meeting and how she had caught him singing... and she wondered if they would ever get that person back. His hands moved from her waist up to the sides of her ribs and he pulled her to him. She gasped against his lips and wished she could remove his shirt. Her fingers slipped beneath his collar.

The overtly furious rage of his hunger had calmed in the days and weeks since he had been freed, but it was always there, just beneath the surface. He tilted his head up to kiss her forehead and she took the opportunity to press her lips into the arch of his throat. The vampire and the man were one and the same, and she had gotten dangerously close to both of them.

Alex forced him to step back, still kissing him. Eventually, his legs hit the frame of the futon and he didn't resist. Turning, he supported her as they fell, laying her down gently. He brought one hand to rest flat on her stomach, closing his eyes. His thumb rubbed the material of her dress and the sensation made her pull at his shoulders, urging him closer. He remained, but opened his eyes.

Watching her, he trailed his fingers between her breasts, making her shudder. Only after flattening his hand against her chest did he curve into her, his kiss slowly bringing his body against hers. His every movement was controlled, deliberate, but when she kicked off her boots and brought her legs to wrap around his waist he let out an involuntary gasp and froze for a flurry of heartbeats, pulling back slightly. She locked his eyes in a challenging stare before she arched her hips, and he surrendered. Hal dropped against her and she started kissing his throat, his jaw and the corner of his mouth, right where his smile tilted. With a guttural exhale he abruptly turned them, rolling and lifting her to be on top of him, and she realized that rather than stop her, he had put her in control.

He felt too damn good, and all she wanted was more. She didn't want to control herself any longer and she didn't want him holding back. She threw it all into kissing him and she felt the muscles of his stomach contract beneath her as he sat up. _Oh god... that was worse._ She laced her fingers through his hair as he gripped her solidly, keeping her against him. Their kiss deepened and she couldn't bear it any longer. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them, undoing _him,_ while she moved and he let her. Her dress had hitched up around her hips and his hands found their way past it, gracing the skin of her low back. She wanted him with such intensity that she couldn't get his shirt off fast enough.

He lifted up the fabric of her dress, exposing her stomach. It was such a simple thing, but when their bare skin touched she thought she would come undone right then and there. It was not so different from when he first pressed his thumb to her palm, when she hadn't yet recognized the shock for what it was. It was elemental. The moment when two magnets locked. A sparking lust.

He froze again, which made her realize that he felt it too. Or perhaps, for him it was merely the contact with another being after so much time. But he didn't pull away, and she hazarded to wrap her arms around him, fingers spreading across his back. She could feel his uneven breath on her neck as he held her, but somehow she knew – it was time. He wouldn't bite her.

She leaned into his ear, pressing her throat to his lips in the most blatant test of his control she had ever attempted. Maybe their contact had brought her near madness. She no longer cared. "Please," she whispered. "Please tell me we can have sex."

She felt his eyelids flutter and he kissed her throat before answering, breathy and raw. "We can have sex."

The silk of her dress was liquid against his fingertips, but couldn't compare with the electric current of her bare skin. He pushed the dress the rest of the way up and away while she assisted with easy fluidity. Her black camisole top quickly followed, but as she went to unhook the fastening of her bra he stopped her hands. Holding her wrist behind her, he nudged her forward to kiss the soft rise of skin above the satin.

He had pictured this, but even his practiced imagination didn't compare.

She ground against him, pulling her hand free to reach for the button and zip of his trousers. _He didn't stop her._ When the warmth of her hands found their way through to touch him, to pull him free, he no longer could suppress the moan.

She _liked_ doing this to him, her pleasure in taunting evident as she leaned in to kiss him, circling her hips. It may have been a damn long time, but he was determined to keep his control in this. He reached around to the band of her leggings and slipped his fingers past perfectly soft flesh, and lower, to embrace the muscle. She writhed against him. Fire with fire.

_Her_ hands were everywhere, unrestrained. His stomach, his waist, the delicate skin next to his hips, his cock.

This _was_ growing stronger. Her scent, warmth, taste - was all the more immediate. She caressed the bone of his hip with a smile, nudging the fabric of his clothing away.

God, he didn't deserve her. _This_.

Her hand dropped and he couldn't help but sigh, eyes rising to the slender curve of her neck. Not even tresses to hide the pulse.

The enticing possibility of losing himself in her - in this - was such strong temptation. _To taste her_. He kissed the curve of her shoulder and moved a hand up her spine to press her close, limiting the range of her arm between them.

Touching his forehead to hers, closing his eyes, "Alex..."

She was as insatiable as he, writhing against the restraint of his arm. "Mmm...?" she uttered distractedly.

"Alex... I..." he was momentarily at loss for words. Her scent, her skin... it was too much and his head was swimming with her. He curved to lean into her chest, fingers fell to the breast bone, kissing from the base of her clavicle down, away from the call of her throat. His hand on her back travelled upwards. Her bra was so simple to unclasp... modern. Gone.

She moaned and pressed the heat of her hips into him when his lips reached the delicate skin of her breast. He could even taste her skin now. Not merely an echo. He sucked on her softness, and with the slightest shift, moved to the pink, taking her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue to taste.

Her heartbeat was increasing as was her writhing. "Hal - please -" she pleaded, aligning them through the thin material that separated. He pulled back though, running fingertips along her ribcage, her stomach and to her back once more.

He pressed her close to kiss, sucking on her tongue as his hand slipped all the way past. She moaned into his mouth before he even reached her wetness.

This was unreal. She was _more_ than solid. Alex was _entirely_ real to him. Not like a ghost in the slightest. Testing, his fingers eased into her.

A primal groan escaped her with the slight penetration and she began to rub against his erection. His kisses travelled away from her mouth as he plunged fingers into her silkness. Old habits died hard... Damn hard. He kissed her throat, causing her breath to hitch. Lips against her pulse, he could feel the blood she _shouldn't have_ pounding through her.

Alex stopped. Pulled herself back to look at him flushed and out of breath. "This is it, isn't it," her question was a saddened statement. Hal stopped, extracted his fingers. "This is how I would have died, had it been you..."

Hal swallowed, at a loss. Predictably, Alex had surprised him yet again.

It was probably true.

They held each other's gazes for a long while, her heartbeat calming until cautiously, hesitantly, she pulled at the material of his pants. Keeping their eyes locked, he lifted his hips for her.

"Has it really been fifty five years?" She whispered, still not quite believing. He nodded, and she pursed her lips, removing what was left of her clothes. She unbuckled his watch, lifting the leather band from his wrist.

When she pressed the length of her naked body to his it was enough to force a moan from him. Straddling him with practiced ease - she was no shy stranger to this - but he edged to nest against her groin. This was happening too fast. _This was happening_.

Hal sat up, one hand cradled against the curve of her spine to hold her to him as he leaned, arm outstretched reaching the nearest hanging sheet. Her arm wound around his shoulder, lips pressed against his neck and he felt more than heard a soft "oh." Laying back down, he pulled the thin white cotton with them to drape across her shoulders as her hand fell to his chest. Thiswould have to be restrained, gentle.

Kissing Alex deeply, sincere with want, only then did he meet the entrance to her heat. She lifted herself to watch his face, eyes wide as they sank together painfully, deliciously slow.

Careful, testing, she moved against him to kiss. When she edged more, pulling up against him, _such a small thing_ , Hal thoroughly lost his composure. Forcing his eyes shut didn't help, biting his lip didn't help. With surrender, he grunted and _thoroughly_ buried himself in her.

_Oh God,_ _her face._

They found their rhythm, slick, slow. He channeled his attention to the softer parts of her; breast, hip, buttock and restrained his eyes from the swan-song of her throat. She aided in the fight against his struggle by keeping herself poised upright, away from the danger of his mouth. It worked, somewhat. _He could do this... he could... oh fuck._

Alex was sending electric tingles through them both, her gasps coming at a higher frequency with every slight movement. Hal felt the pressure build, pumping and ancient against his teeth. Incisors dropping, he bit through his own lip.

She must have seen it, the flash of white to red, surely. But she _did not stop_. Mouth open, bewildered, she lowered against him. She was challenging him... she was... _ki_ _ssing_ him. Alex wove her fingers through his hair, tasting what he tasted.

Hal couldn't believe it, the shock of her brazenness startling the vampire in him. She never ceased to surprise. He couldn't... _this was too much... this... was..._

Blinding, white-hot, they came together. _Perfectly._

Her head on his chest, her hand tracing patterns against his ribs, they had barely come down before he stirred again inside of her.

"No way," she chuffed. He smiled, kissed the top of her head, ran his hands down her back.

"You did accuse me of being repressed..." He kissed her forehead when she raised it, hands traveling to clasp her arms, holding her to his chest. As he tilted into her, he stated with a low growl, "You have _no_ idea."

* * *

She would never admit it, but that morning while she lay in his arms and watched the grey light creep across the floorboards, she almost expected her door. It didn't appear, of course, but she felt that content. Whole... and triumphant. Not because she had finally gotten what she wanted from the beginning, but because they had beaten it. He had mastered his control. It wasn't so different than running, but something larger had shifted within him and she knew he had broken through.

It didn't happen right away. Their first time she tasted blood on him immediately. Despite how gentle and slow he was, he had bitten through his own lip. She didn't stop kissing him though, forcing him through it and tasting for herself the iron-slick arousal that blood was for him.

He had stirred again inside her soon after, and she had said some non-eloquent quip like, "No way." He merely laughed, his smile tugging against her as he reminded her of the repression she had accused him of. She was made fully aware of his regenerative power, which her ghostly form seemed able to match. It was near dawn before they fell into sleep.

And now, content within the comforting press of their bodies tangled together in the sheet he had pulled from the ceiling, Alex hated that the night was coming to an end. Every bit of her was fine-tuned. Never before had she experienced such an attentive lover. He played her like a well-loved instrument; already knowing her every breath. It was creeping past time to let Allison out of the cellar though, and some time after, Tom would be home. But thank goodness today was a day off.

Alex attempted to extract herself without waking him. If she could just teleport downstairs to flip open the lock then she could come back to bed in no time. But Hal sleepily opened his eyes, tightening his hold on her. She trailed her hand down his stomach, fingers settling over his navel.

"We need to let Allison free," she said softly, but teased at his skin. His hair was so delightfully tousled and his face so sleepy that he looked rather boyish. It may have been a very long time ago, but she wondered what he was like as a child.

He gave a petulant sigh into her hair, but released her. "It would be better for you to go. I smell a bit obvious, I think."

Alex laughed but sat up. Pulling loose of their thin sheet she stood and felt his eyes follow the expanse of her skin. With a wink, she teleported away.

Reappearing in her usual wear and level of tidiness, Alex noted that Allison's phone alarm was beeping steadily on the bottom step. Shit – it was later than she thought. Maybe she should have kept Hal's watch on him instead of unbuckling it...

Alex opened the lock and turned to go, but the door instantly swung open. Allison, completely naked and totally unconcerned about it, looked crossly at the ghost.

"About time! That's been going off for two rounds now. What took you so long?" Allison walked out and reached for her phone. Without waiting for Alex to answer, she yawned and said, "I have to leave for class in just one hour." And then she stepped past the ghost, aiming for the shower.

"Oops." Alex thought but smiled. In a blink, she was back in the attic. She wondered if she could teleport herself free of her clothes.

Hal promised himself that he wouldn't make a habit of it, but for the first time since he had started to let Alex in, he allowed himself to languish in bed with her. She was... convincing.

Later, however, he was deeply grateful they did, for that very day was when everything changed - again.


End file.
